Every Slayer Has A Death Wish
by capra-silva
Summary: Every Slayer has a death wish  revisited   Spuffy one-shot.  I posted this a while ago but then took it down because it was in need of some serious editing


Every slayer has a death wish.

The vampire covered her mouth, trying to muffle screams that weren't even coming. The slayer leant helplessly against the young vampire, knowing she could easily overpower him. She heard the vampire's human visage slip into its game face, a feral growl ripping through its chest. She waited expectantly for blinding pain from the ripped wound the vampire was creating in her neck, but it didn't come.

She felt nothing.

It even came as a mild shock to her when she tilted her head softly to the side and saw at least an inch of sharp, glistening fang in her neck despite the non-existent pain.

She did, however, feel the blood dripping down her neck. It felt cold as it oozed out, a bitter and painful reflection of her soul. The soul she now doubted she even had. No one with a soul would do the things she had done, see the things she had seen, and not care anymore. She remembered the younger her, appalled at the reckless and damaging nature of every one of Faiths actions. Now, though, she was just as bad as her dark and broken sister slayer.

The blood made its way down her neck and reached her pure white shirt. A pure white that she felt was wasted on her. White was for angels.

The blood reached the fringes of the fabric, instantaneously spreading through the fabric, turning it deep red in its path and staining the skin underneath a weak and dirty red.

The slayers vision was fading, but it felt no different from the usual coldness in her heart that she had become accustomed to her. No fear, or excitement, or anything to tell her that she was, in fact, alive. She wasn't even sure she was. She was just the same emotionless hole of nothing she had become since her resurrection, a not quite living model dressed in the painfully heavy reflection of death.

The vampire forced his face closer to the slayers neck, the flesh tearing easily. It was just too easy to end human life, life was too fragile. Young, fledgling vampires could end a human life, and they did every time they fed. Every time a vampire got the tummy rumblings, it was a death wish. She relished the feel of her skin tearing so easily in his wild mouth lined with deadly teeth. She could feel each rip in her flesh, no pain to stop her really feel what it's like to die. She could feel her blood steadily disappearing so clearly, not blinded by pain. It was almost…beautiful.

She waited for the feeling to come to her the way it had before, so sure that she would feel soon, when she was closer to death then she was now. She wanted to remember what it was like, when she jumped off the tower for her sister and every other time she got hurt. The feeling of euphoria and freedom, the feeling of having no worries of anything anymore, no worrying about feelings. And as much as that seemed somewhat like a paradox, but it was true, that the greatest amount of feeling she had ever felt was when she was so uncaring of feelings, and yet still filled with them. Now she had nothing – she had left everything she was behind in heaven, and now she was a shell. But she would be back soon. She would be restored to herself again. She could be alive again.

The feeling didn't come. She let the vampire bring her closer and closer to the brink of death, until she was almost teetering on the edge of the precipice of death. Just steps away from falling out of this world and back into the heavenly place where her soul would be at rest. She never meant to let it go this far. She just wanted to feel how she had before dying; she had no intention of actually dying. She couldn't do that to her friends or Dawn. Or even Spike. But now, she was so close that she couldn't bring herself to care anymore. Just that little bit further, and she could reach the point she wanted, and then she would stake the vampire and be done with it.

When she could practically feel the freedom of death the door coming onto the alley burst open.

An arrow went flying and pierced the vampire cold heart and his fangs combusted in her neck, leaving little speckles of vampire dustto fall on her bared neck and shoulders, drifting down in front of her.

All she could do was stare blankly, rather shocked.

There stood Giles and Willow and Xander, all looking at her. She could tell what they were thinking; how could a vampire like that overcome her? How could it have been stronger than her? she was the slayer after all. Was there something wrong with her? Only Spike looked right past it, he knew why. He looked her in the eye and gave her the most intense stare she had ever been given, so intense she averted her eyes to the ground, for a moment before meeting his again. She remembered his words from that night so long ago, before everything changed, _Every slayer has a death wish. Even you._

She had always thought that she would be the exception to that rule, yet here she was. Exactly where every slayer before had ended up

Giles, Willow and Xander all asked if she was ok. She nodded dutifully and they walked out of the alley, expecting her and Spike to follow.

When they were out of hearing distance Spike whispered to her some words of hope.

"I know"

He knew.


End file.
